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<title>Meteor City: Blue by ChainSmokesPens</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29949411">Meteor City: Blue</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChainSmokesPens/pseuds/ChainSmokesPens'>ChainSmokesPens</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Meteor City (ChainSmokesPens Series), Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fantasy, Heroes &amp; Heroines, Multi, Superheroes, Supervillains, Urban Fantasy, Villains</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 00:34:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,100</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29949411</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChainSmokesPens/pseuds/ChainSmokesPens</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Meteor City, epicenter of a world-rending event two centuries prior, is a bustling metropolis. Heroes roam the light, villains wander the shadows, and everyone else is just trying to get home at the end of the day. When a world is saturated in heroics, whether you align yourself with good or evil, with law or chaos, or choose to stand in the middle, the only thing you can really do is live.<br/>In Meteor City, these brave men and women are the arms of the law.<br/>Prompt [SP]: “I’m not a hero. I was just at the right place at the right time.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This story, like much of my writing here, was taken from prompts that I found online. Having seen so many different superhero prompts, I decided to congeal them all into one universe. It won’t make a lot of sense, but it will be fun to write. I hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Vacheron Green ran through the neon-illumined streets, plowing over people as he desperately struggled to pull the watch free of his wrist. Every muscle in his forearm groaned in refusal, his blood vessels bulging prominently from lack of circulation. He knew peeking over his shoulder would slow him down, but he didn’t know how close they were.</p><p>Stealing the watch was his first mistake. Stealing a glance at his pursuers was his second.</p><p>“Make way!” their automated alarm gave out. Green winced at the red-blue flashes. “We are currently in pursuit of Vacheron Green. For your safety do not interfere with the apprehension of this criminal.”</p><p>The officers were narrowing the distance behind their target. Their treads kicking up gravel like bullets at those who were standing to close. Affixed to the elbow of the foremost officer was the standard issue X-Machina Minigun Mk. II, taking the place where his arm would have been before joining the police. The belt of ammunition was loaded and he stared defiantly at his target, just waiting for him to duck into an alley where he could shred him with a rain of metal.</p><p>Green turned back around. He couldn’t run any faster; not through this crowd. And the cops were gaining on him. The highlights of his life played over his mind’s eye like eight-millimeter film. </p><p>Breaking out of Alcatraz IV to go see the final tour of the Desperate College Girlfriends? Worth it. Getting beat up by the bouncer when he demanded the band sign their autographs onto his abs with his lucky pocketknife? Not worth it.<br/>Plucking candy from the mouth of a baby and eating it so that he could literally claim to have stolen candy from a baby? Worth it. Getting put on a sex offender registry for being caught on camera putting a lollipop covered in baby saliva in his mouth? Not worth it.</p><p>Breaking into the museum to steal miscellaneous valuables to flex on his Instagram account? Worth it. Tripping every wire as he shattered the glass dome on the ceiling before jumping down on a rope he thought would function like a bungee cord, pulling his knee out of its socket at then breaking the foot on the same leg after trying to repeatedly break the glass case holding the watch, jumping out a second story window because he forgot hot big the museum was, and spending thirty minutes affixing the watch to his arm so he wouldn’t drop it as he fled like a rat coward? Not worth it.<br/>At that moment, Green made his worst choice of all. By instinct, he ducked into an alleyway with the cops in pursuit. The officer leading the charge extended his gun, prepared to end the chase.</p><p>It was over.</p><p>Slowing to a jog, the thief turned around and spread his arms. A soft smile on his face, he said, “It’s been a good life, pigs.” He let himself fall backwards, ready.</p><p>The black barrels of the minigun were inches from his chest.</p><p>Then the watch beeped. The pressure being applied to Green’s wrist vanished and the machine wrapped around it pinged. A discharge of electricity spread from the device, wholly engulfing the thief and the weapon aimed at him. There was a vibrant blue flash and Green fell backwards, the minigun unleashing its rounds.</p><p>He hit the cement as the bullets flew over his head, the heavy weapon landing directly on his chest. He fell slack, convinced he was dead.</p><p>Then there was a roar, the violent sound of an elk emerging from the mouth of a screaming elephant. It was a violation of the eardrums and made the stomach churn. Though it wasn’t as grotesque as the fleshy thump that resounded afterwards.</p><p>Green held the gun to his chest as he rose; if the cop was gone, he may as well keep it. He turned to assess the situation.<br/>And saw a blubbery monstrosity on the pavement, riddled with the smoking bullet holes left from the X-Machina Minigun Mk. II.</p><p>That wasn’t nearly as odd as what he saw around him. Buildings with three hundred different stories, walkways branching between them like a spider’s web. A lush park, performers entertaining, children playing, people walking their pets or exercising. The enormous meteor that hung suspended in the distance, a glowing ring that read “Tower of the Stars” encircling it.</p><p>Green was in the past.</p><p>“Shit.”</p><p>“Excuse me, sir.”</p><p>Green turned to the voice and was taken aback by what was coming his way; a floating man with flesh like the night sky. “Thank you for your assistance in defeating Grobulon.” His voice was emotionless and authoritative. “You are a true hero.”</p><p>Green clutched the minigun defensively to his chest. “Oh. I’m not a hero. I was just in the right place at the right time.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Anteros</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Prompt: [WP] Being a superhero is hard. The evil villains, the glass civilians, and the constant number of women who hit on you. The last part being the hardest.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Anteros winced as the fuchsia exhaust of his jetpack scaled his back. He tottered about ten feet off the ground. The damage to the Hot Wings kept him from pushing the machine to go any higher—risking a perilous fall—though his caution kept him firmly within the harmful reach of the mob.<br/>Painted fingernails groped vainly upward, bracelets jingling on thin wrists, screams and hoots and the flash of cellphone cameras.<br/>His vanity brought him here. Fresh out of college, eager to get as many women as his status as a hero would get him, Romeo Reagan spent his first eight months on the job fighting the Board of Hero Uniforms and Gadgetry that he wanted his outfit to be nothing more than his jetpack, his two pistols, and his speedo. He picketed the building, defending his right to have his front bulge be as conspicuous as possible to those he saved<br/>What he didn’t expect were the repercussions.<br/>A close examination of Anteros’ skin revealed his flesh to be covered in near-imperceptible heart-shaped groves. These patterns inadvertently hypnotized the people who saw them. And anyone with a sexual attraction to men were smitten to a degree based on the amount of exposed skin.<br/>In spite of Anteros’ initial hypothesis, the hypnosis didn’t end after the sex stopped.<br/>He felt a claw-like finger rake across his flesh-pistol and he yelped in shock, looking down at the crowd. Excited men and women fawning over his toned calves, thighs, and glutes. Horny housewives excitedly pushing their strollers at break-neck speeds. Angry partners without male-based attractions wielding a plethora of tools meant to do the hero harm.<br/>The engine of the Hot Wings sputtered and Anteros started to descend.<br/>He said a silent prayer.</p>
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